Bob could feel the blast of air against his face, and he was glad his goggles fitted well. The motor roared, the wind screamed. Bob tried to shout, but could not hear himself uttering a sound. He looked down. The airport looked as it had from the other plane. Now he had more of the feeling of flying. There was a sudden bump. The Marianne dropped suddenly. Bob felt as though he were in an elevator that had descended very suddenly—there was the same pit-of-the-stomach feeling. Air bump, he thought, and it was. He looked over the side again, and could see nothing. They were traveling pretty high. Then suddenly the roar of the motor stopped, and they began to descend at what Bob felt must be an almost unbelievable speed. At first Bob was frightened, but then realized that they were gliding down. Every now and then Pat turned on his engine again. Bob, looking over the side, could see the fields coming up to meet them. They landed so gently that he hardly felt the jolt of the wheels touching the ground. How funny to stand on the stable ground once more! The sound of the motor was still roaring in Bob’s ears. He pulled off the goggles and helmet. “It was marvelous!” he shouted loudly to his friends. “We can hear you,” said the Captain. “You needn’t shout!” “Was I shouting?” laughed Bob. “You are,” said the Captain. But Pat had turned to Hal. “Well, lad, you’re next.” But Hal said what he had been rehearsing for many minutes, in fact, ever since Bob had taken to the air. “Don’t you think it’s rather late? We haven’t had any lunch. Maybe we could go up again after lunch.” Captain Bill, who knew the struggle that was going on in Hal’s heart, and who was getting hungry anyway, said, “Lunch. That’s the idea. We’ve got a great picnic lunch, Pat.” “Lead me to it,” said Pat. “Knew that would get you,” laughed the Captain. They left the plane in charge of a mechanic, who was to look after it, and went over to the automobile that the Captain had parked. They decided, on Bob’s suggestion, to eat on a grassy slope from which they could see the airport. “I’ve got an idea,” said the Captain. “You can start your story about Lindbergh.” “I’m ready,” said Bob, “if you’re ready to listen. I think I know the story backwards and forward.” “Begin at the beginning, always,” the Captain warned. They reached the spot where they had chosen to picnic, and settled back contentedly in the long grass to hear part of Bob’s story before lunch. CHAPTER V—The Eagle “Well,” began Bob, “I guess my story isn’t going to be very new to any of you. Gee, I know it almost by heart, and I suppose everybody else does, too.” “Don’t apologize,” said the Captain. “We’ll be only too glad to stop you if we’ve heard it before. I don’t think that we will, though. It’s a story that bears repeating.”